[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ccff]Cecily Ashworth[/color][/h1][img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxdtnpHngQ1qf426so1_500.gif[/img][hr]Location: Alicia's Secret Hideout; Queensguard Private Airfield[/center][hr][hr]Before all of this happened, Cecily Ashworth, the oldest child of lawyers Wendy and Frank Ashworth, spent a fair deal of her time on tumblr. She followed the tags of her favorite fandoms, from the Marvel Cinematic Universe to BBC Sherlock. And as she peered down at the ladder, the heavenly and glorious ladder of her escape, she recalled one post that she had reblogged in particular. 

[url=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/3d/eb/4c/3deb4c8734d5b44ba948fadaeb21a4b9.jpg]The post[/url] felt especially fitting, as she climbed her way down the ladder with some difficulty, as she attempted to keep herself from bleeding out. She had been dumped into something stranger than real life, into something akin to--and perhaps even more dangerous than--her favorite shows and comics. All of this chaos had been going on for about a week--and here she was, near to death. 

She went to mention it to Caesar, before deciding to hold the comment altogether. She didn't need to lose whatever credibility she had with him by revealing herself as a tumblr nerd. That, and she was fucking bleeding. And damn it, [i]it hurt.[/i] Cecily was amazed that she didn't fall off the ladder, with her hands shaking as she reached the landing. Adjusting her grip, she hoped Caesar knew how to get bloodstains out of clothing, as otherwise, the bandana [i]definitely[/i] was going to need to be thrown out. 

[color=00ccff]"Fucking hell,"[/color] Cecily muttered, as the lights turned on, dazzling her with the intensity. She shifted her free hand to cover her eyes, squinting through the gaps in her fingers until she adjusted to it. For a few moments, it was like staring at the sun. But as her vision adjusted, she spotted a staircase, heading down. [i]Who the bloody hell built this place?[/i]

Glancing behind her, Cecily did smile slightly. [color=00ccff]"You...You do know how to deal with bullet wounds, right? I mean...You look like you've been shot before...or at...Sorry if that's rude,"[/color] Cecily asked, increasing the pressure on the wound once more, as she descended the flight of stairs. Half of her expected it to lead them to a trap, that there'd only be more gunmen down there, but for now, she was alive and breathing. That was fortune enough. 

[i]And why the hell did Alicia have Iris' card?[/i] The thought flickered through her mind, but the pain in her shoulder quickly chased it away. Biting down on her lip, Cecily made it to the bottom of the stairs, and she glanced around, her eyes widening. It looked like it was the set of a spy movie, or perhaps a still from a comic book. The room reminded her of a drainage system of sorts, containing weapons and...a medical kit.

She stood there in shock for a moment, before hurrying over to the medical kits as best as she could. Her hands were shaking as she undid them, and she knew that the bullet in her shoulder was stemming blood flow--but it was also giving her lead poisoning. Cecily unpacked the materials, a bit skeptical at her being able to do anything effective with it. [color=00ccff]"Erm...Should I pull it out or--?"[/color]

But she was cut off, as a [i]beep[/i] echoed throughout the air, and a computer generated voice began to speak. She glanced over at Caesar, listening to it identify him, and then her eyes spotted a monitor, with the video image of the deceased Alicia Gonzalez displayed on it. She shook her head slightly, looking back down at the kit. Caesar needed a private moment--she'd figure this out. Somehow. 

Taking out some of the gauze, she did her best to put pressure on the wound, and thankfully, Lady Luck allowed the blood flow to be stopped. [i]If only Natasha was here...I mean, lead poisoning can't set in that quickly...can it?[/i]
[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#99ccff]Iris Kingston[/color][/h1][img]http://67.media.tumblr.com/369c373ccd5492086fe09c131190330d/tumblr_o1l0wsNgEX1s5zf6fo1_500.gif[/img][hr]Location: [s]Arkham Asylum[/s] Justice Asylum For The Criminally Insane: the Ludwig Building[/center][hr][hr][i]Potentially identity disorder. Patient--Cynthia--associates with name Valentine[/i], Iris thought to herself. She had been blessed with a photographic memory, and Cynthia's seemingly drug induced spins and twirls were a sight Iris figured she would never quite forget. As Cynthia threw her head back, she pondered more and more what information the file would divulge. This wasn't the typical patient they encountered at the Ludwig Building--but then again, no one ever really was the typical patient. 

[color=99ccff]"And what a lovely name that is, Valentine,"[/color] Iris complimented, hardly skipping a beat. [color=99ccff]"Is it your birthday then? I know you mentioned it was your day in the common area."[/color] She smiled softly at her patient, debating whether or not the woman could be trusted with a spoon to eat the sorbet with. Instead, Iris opened up the small tin of cookies she kept at her desk, and offered one to [i]Valentine.[/i]

[color=99ccff]"Well, I'd love to get to know you better, Valentine,"[/color] Iris continued. [color=99ccff]"But I find it's a bit awkward sometimes if I know all about you, and you know nothing about me, yes? So. Here's my proposal: You can ask me any question you like, I'll answer truthfully, and then I can ask you a question. You can pass if you're uncomfortable answering, but I do ask you tell the truth."[/color]

Iris folded her hands neatly at the desk, allowing Cynthia to ask questions first if she agreed. Mentally, she was keeping track of her patient's movements and responses, attempting to identify what demons tortured the poor woman. As soon as she concluded this initial session with Valentine, she would write up her unbiased comments, and then peruse the file. However, Iris already had a premonition that Valentine was no ordinary patient. 
[hr][hr][center][h1][color=ff6600]Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway[/color][/h1][img]http://37.media.tumblr.com/c52d6b9ae02d88293c8dbd47911bdd67/tumblr_n2swtgQuHI1tq4of6o1_500.gif[/img][hr]Location: Club AfterDark[/center][hr][hr]Tuesday sighed a bit, her lips comically being puffed out as she did so. Truthfully, Tuesday couldn't quite tell whether it was whimsy or fancy. She was getting sick of the same old routine--everyone acting like they were hot shit, when they weren't. Having to work out new ways to smuggle goods in for her clients down in lockup. It had become monotonous, repetitive, like a police procedural drama. The wheel turned, but nothing ever changed. 

[color=ff6600]"Everyone just takes themselves so fucking seriously,"[/color] Tuesday admitted, holding her head in her hand. [color=ff6600]"We're druggies. Own that shit, right? But everyone acts like they're some badass gangsta or the fucking Queen of Sheba. And then, all these runs, all these marks, all these drops? They're all the same."[/color] She paused for a moment, laughing a bit. [color=ff6600]"The kids we deal to will be us one day, and they'll deal to someone, and then they'll deal to someone...I'm getting [i]bored.[/i]"[/color]

It wasn't really medical school that Tuesday wanted--it was more a change. As exciting as the lifestyle had been in her early 20's, she would be thirty in just two years. And to be honest, she didn't want to do this for the rest of her life. Her lifestyle was just another drug for her--one that she had now abused enough to no longer bring its highs. With her head in her hands, she probably looked just like she did whenever she was in need of a fix. 

[color=ff6600]"I dunno. Maybe I am serious. Maybe I'm not,"[/color] Tuesday shrugged. However, her mouth then curled into a snarky grin. [color=ff6600]"But I [i]can[/i] help you with that back, asshole. A good punch or two should do the trick. Maybe a kick, too."[/color]